Free A Lady's Favor by Josi S. Kilpack Page A

Bianca said, trying to break free from her mother’s grip upon her shoulders. “As though I would go to him without your permission.”
    “You did so once already, did you not?”
    Bianca stilled. Mama knew about that first visit? Bianca caught the guilty expression of one of the maids currently filling a basket with Bianca’s shoes. Perhaps she did not have the loyalty she believed. She looked back at her mother and set her jaw.
    “Nothing happens in this household that I don’t know about eventually, Bianca. And you are not going anywhere nor will any notes be allowed out of this house. The servants have been put on notice of your punishment and will report the slightest disobedience to me. They put their employment at risk if they disobey me.”
    Bianca glared at her mother. “So I am to be a prisoner in my own home?”
    “Yes,” Mama said without hesitation. “For now.”
    Bianca lifted the skirt of her dressing gown. “And I am confined to this?”
    “Yes,” Mama said again, with ease and confidence. She finally let go of Bianca’s shoulders and stepped back. “This is how we will begin building the trust necessary to move forward.”
    She turned back to the door. The maids, arms laden with clothes, had already exited, and Mama followed them with her chin high. She closed the door softly, in direct contrast to Bianca having slammed it a few minutes earlier.
    Once she was alone again, Bianca sat on the edge of her bed and reviewed what had happened in a more objective light. This new confinement had done nothing to lessen her absolute knowledge that she had to see Mr. Hensley. Mama may have taken Bianca’s clothes and shoes, but she had left behind an idea that was quickly growing into a plan. It had never crossed Bianca’s mind to try to see Mathew on her own—she had thought only to wear Mama down until she agreed to allow a visit—but she still felt the burning need to apologize to him, and should she live to be a hundred years, she had to know the reason he had kissed her last night.
    What if he cared for her more than she’d dared believe? What if all the kind things he had said were sincere? What if he had agreed to this game for reasons that went beyond the favor he owed her as a result of the Incident?
    Bianca moved to the window and glanced at the sky; it was gray but the clouds were not heavy. Sneaking out of the house during the day was foolish—Mama would be on high alert during daylight—but tonight, after a day of guarding Bianca, she would be tired. She would have an extra glass of wine after dinner, as she often did on days when she was particularly irritated, and sleep like a stone. That was when Bianca would make her escape.
    Mathew might be scandalized at her showing up at his house in the middle of the night, but there was a certain romanticism to such an appearance. His parents were still in London, and when she explained her urgency, he would understand and then . . . well, who knew what would happen then.
    And it was not as though he could fault her for inappropriate dress when he had been only in his drawers on the day of the Incident. Her cheeks flamed at the memory, and she shook it away. He would understand why she was in her nightclothes once she explained, and she would spend the afternoon hemming her gown a few inches higher so that it would not drag during her escape. She could ask him about that kiss, then they could plan together what to do next. Perhaps he would even kiss her again.
    It would work; it had to work—she had no other course.

ELEVEN
     
    A pounding at the front door woke Mathew, but it took a few moments for him to blink himself back to wakefulness. He leaned over to use the flint to light the candle beside his bed. While his eyes adjusted, he heard the servants moving and shuffling about. Then he heard voices—raised voices.
    He swung his feet to the floor and picked up his dressing gown from the chair beside his bed, then thought better of it and